


The Broken Hearts Band

by Nemainofthewater



Series: Rip Week 2019 [4]
Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: Crushes, Don't copy to another site, Fluff, Gen, Love, Pre-Canon, Rip Week 2019, RipFic, apart from the first section, oblivious!rip, possibly nonsense, rip being the inspiration for things and not realising it, set mostly pre-canon, the legends don't feature in it a lot, written very quickly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-26
Updated: 2019-06-26
Packaged: 2020-05-20 07:45:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19372315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nemainofthewater/pseuds/Nemainofthewater
Summary: Oblivious!Rip travelling through history, and breaking hearts as he goes.5 people who had crushes on Rip Hunter, and one who loved him.





	The Broken Hearts Band

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Rip Hunter Appreciation Week-Day 3: Unusual Friendships.  
> Inspired by a Tumblr post by @kalinara  
> https://kalinara.tumblr.com/post/185858702265/rip-week-3-unusual-friends

“I can’t believe Rip had a cowboy boyfriend and never told us!” Jax said, “That’s so cool.”

 

“Are you sure they were an item?” Kendra asked dubiously.

 

“You weren’t there for most of it,” Ray said, “Trust me. They have that whole ‘bitter-ex’ thing going on.”

 

“Who would have thought it,” Martin said, “Captain Hunter. A player.”

 

Jax winced, and glared at Martin: “Do not,” he said, “Ever use that word ever again.”

 

Amongst snickers and Martin’s comically hurt look, Sara said: “We should enjoy this while we can. When else are we going to meet any of Rip’s old flames?”

 

  1. Ada Lovelace



 

“Ms Lovelace,” Rip said, “Are you certain you want to show me the calculations just now? I could always come back at a more respectable hour tomorrow.”

 

“Oh no,” Ada replied “That would be extremely rude of me! After all, it’s my fault that we lost track of time, and I do so want to hear more about those hypothetical temporal calculations we were discussing.”

 

Rip was fairly certain that he wasn’t changing the timeline too significantly. The numbers he was discussing were, after all, hypothetical, even in his time. And it was quite a temptation to be able to have a proper debate, enough so that he had delayed returning to the Vanishing Point for debriefing once his mission had ended.

 

“Oh! Ms Lovelace, what are you doing?”

 

Ada looked up from where she was removing the golden pins from her hair, letting it tumble ‘round her visage in artful curls.

 

“Just making myself more comfortable, Captain,” she said.

 

“Of course,” Rip said, before settling in by her desk and picking up a pen and writing quickly: “Now about those equations-”

 

Ada gave him a look of annoyance, and Rip supposed that he had been rather forward in claiming a pen but how else were they to discuss the maths?, but then sighed and came to join him, head bent over the page in front of her.

 

“Brilliant Captain Hunter,” she said, “Quite brilliant.”

 

  1. Oscar Wilde



“Captain Hunter!” a male voice called out after him, and Rip turned to see a slight man, with hair slightly too long to be fashionable.

 

“I apologise,” Rip said, “You have me at a disadvantage-?”

 

“You don’t recognise me?” The man pouted at him, staring coyly through his lashes. “It was a long time ago,” he allowed, “But you don’t seem to have aged a day!”

 

“Ah,” Rip said, leaning back slightly as the man attempted to touch his face, presumably to look for wrinkles. One of the perils of being a time traveller: never meeting people in the right order.

 

“I’m so sorry,” he said, jerking his head back in what he hoped was a subtle manner, “I must take my leave of you. I’m afraid I have a prior engagement.”

 

The man smiled sadly.

 

“Yes,” he said, “You always do. Fare well then, my dear Captain. I hope to meet you again, before the end.”

 

 

  1. Boudica



 

“Stop!”

 

“I’m afraid this is a mistake,” Rip said calmly, “So why don’t we put our weapons down before someone gets hurt.”

 

The girl before him scowled. She was all long limbs and coltish grace, her tunics hitched to her knees and covered in mud.

 

“Who are you?” she demanded, not dropping her dagger from where she was pointing it at his neck, “And why are you trespassing on our lands?”

 

“A traveller,” Rip said, “A merchant. Looking to ply his wares at Caer Lleyn.”

 

“Caer Lleyn is days away from here,” the girl said flatly, “And you have neither supplies nor wagons. You are well armed though.”

 

Rip sighed, moving his hands even further from his sword, and trying to look as unthreatening as possible. Something that was rather hard when one was covered in ectoplasm. Constantine owed him for this.

 

“No,” the girl continued, “I think you are a Catuvellauni mercenary. You’re not the first I’ve found, and I doubt that you’ll be the last.”

 

“Oh for heaven’s-”

Right, it was clear that there was going to be do de-escalating the situation. Best to get it over with quickly. Quickly, before the girl could react, Rip threw the rock he had discretely palmed while placing his sword on the ground. She dodged it easily, but it gave him enough time to grab his discarded weapon and swiftly disarm her. She glared at him.

 

“Do it,” she spat, “Kill me, but know that my tribe will avenge me.”

 

Rip rolled his eyes.

 

“I still don’t want to kill you,” he said, tossing both their weapons to the side and well out of reach.

 

The girl’s eyes widened, and Rip couldn’t help but notice how young she was. Only a few years older than Jonas.

 

“What are you doing?” she said.

 

“Leaving,” Rip said shortly, “And if there really are mercenaries roaming the area, I would suggest you do the same.”

 

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. He didn’t, however, take his eyes off her. It didn’t look like she wanted to attack him, however. She was staring at him with a mixture of awe and…something else that Rip couldn’t identify.

 

“Keep the sword,” Rip said, slowly backing away. The Waverider was no more than ten minutes away, and honestly it sounded like her tribe could use the steel. It was nothing that could affect the timeline, and there was a paternal part of him that wanted to leave something for her. To help protect her. In any case, he still had his boot daggers: they would be adequate protection for the short walk.

 

The last image of her he had as he walked away was the fierce smile on her face, as she swung her new sword.

 

  1. Stephen Fry



 

“So sorry!” Rip said, sprinting through Oxford and narrowly avoiding barging into a young student.

 

“Oh it’s no-” the rote response was cut off as Rip hissed in alarm and pressed the other man against the wall, shielding them both from view as the Time Pirates sprinted past.

 

“Nggg,” said the student.

 

“Sorry again,” Rip said, and then ran away in the opposite direction.

 

  1. Diana Wynne Jones



 

“Excuse me,” Rip said, putting on his best Welsh accent, which actually wasn’t that great. Hopefully nobody would notice: it wasn’t as though there weren’t more pressing things to worry about what with the War on.

 

“Yes?” the little girl said, looking up at him.  Rip felt a pang through his chest: she was the same age as Jonas.

 

He carefully knelt down so that he was eye to eye with the girl: “My name is Rip,” he said.

 

“That’s a stupid name,” the girl said.

 

“Oh? And what’s your name?”

 

“Diana.”

 

“That’s a beautiful name. Diana. The Roman goddess of the Moon. Now, Diana, I was hoping that you’d be able to help me with something.”

 

Diana squinted at him doubtfully, but she hadn’t run away screaming about strangers yet, so he was going to count that as a win.

 

“What do you want,” she said suspiciously.

 

“Well you see, I’ve lost something,” Rip said, “It’s my house you see. It’s run away from me and I was wondering if you’d seen it?”

 

Diana giggled, some of the wariness leaving her face. “Houses don’t fly,” she informed him with glee, “That’s just silly.”

 

“I’m afraid mine has,” Rip said, “Because she’s very mischievous and likes to fly away.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Heaven knows,” Rip muttered, “Because she’s rather moody sometimes.” Abruptly he remembered who he was talking to and gave an embarrassed cough: “I mean, she likes playing tricks on me. Now, my house is rather large and grey and can fly. Have you seen anything like that.”

 

Diana frowned, her nose scrunching up in thought. “Yes,” she said finally, and then pointed North, “I saw something big flying that way. It didn’t look like a house though.”

 

“Oh, thank God,” Rip said, and then smiled at Diana, “It doesn’t, does it? It’s because I’m a wizard, and wizard’s houses always look a little strange. Thank you Diana, you have been a tremendous help.”

 

He stood up, stretching slightly stiff limbs: “Now, is there anywhere I can take you? Back to you family perhaps?”

Diana gave a little nod, and that was the only warning she got before she had grabbed his hand and dragged him North.

 

“I want to see your flying house!” she declared, face set and obstinate.

 

Rip laughed and allowed himself to be towed along. Showing one little girl wouldn’t overly damage the timeline, and in any case: who would believe her?

 

“Now the first thing you have to know about my house,” he said, “Is that a rather lovely, hmm, sprite lives there with me and looks after it while I’m gone-”

 

+1 Miranda

 

It was dark, and Rip took care to avoid the third stair from the top, which was slightly creaky. He had made that mistake before and dealing with a crying Jonas wasn’t what he wanted to do his first night back. No, there were better things.

 

Silently slipping into the bedroom, he quietly shed his layers, discarding them in a pile on the chair in the corner of the room, until he was left only in his grey T-shirt and boxers. He touched Miranda’s shoulder gently, before retreating slightly in case she had decided to sleep with her knife under her pillow again.

 

“Miranda,” he said softly, “It’s me.”

 

His wife looked up at him, eyes bleary with sleep and Rip felt it again: the strange beating of his heart that he had learnt meant _love_.

 

“Rip,” she said, “You’re back.”

 

“I am,” he agreed, getting into bed beside her, luxuriating in her warmth.

 

She snuggled into him, and he felt safe and loved and not alone for the first time in months. Miranda quickly fell back to sleep, her breathing evening out.

 

“I missed you so much,” Rip whispered. And then, lulled by her gentle breathing, he fell asleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Rip was the inspiration for both The Picture of Dorian Gray and Howl's Moving Castle. What's the bet Miranda finds out about the last one and is very amused by it? It's definitely Jonas' favourite book growing up, that's all I can say  
> I am on Tumblr as [Nemainofthewater ](https://nemainofthewater.tumblr.com)


End file.
